CHAPTER XXXVIII
ON THE YACHT
Will’s first impulse as he regained his freedom was to fly instantly from the boat, which an enforced imprisonment had made hateful to him.
He paused, however, as he remembered the issues at stake.
“When Captain Morris regains consciousness he will fly with his associates. The money, too!” cried Will. “Does it not belong to the Albatross, for he robbed the ship of its cargo?”
But what could he do with four men, even if asleep and harmless for the time being? He might bind them, but alone he could not manage the yacht.
He scanned the landscape searchingly. A long distance away gleamed a light to the far interior, probably that of some isolated farmhouse.
Will determined to go thither, and let developments guide his future movements.
It took him over half an hour to reach the place where the light he had seen was located.
It proved to be as he had supposed—a farmhouse. He knocked at the door, and an old man met him.
Will was somewhat incoherent and excited at first as he told his story in brief.
The old farmer was almost incredulous when Will exposed the villainy of Morris and his associates.
“And you want some help in getting the yacht back to Portland and putting these scoundrels in jail, eh?” he remarked. “Well, I’ll help you.”
He called his two sons, and they were soon on their way to the yacht.
When they arrived they found Morris and the others still insensible.
The farmer secured some stout ropes and tied them securely.
Then, with his sons, he manned the yacht, and, Will deciding that two of them could take it to Portland, left one of his sons to complete the voyage.
They estimated the direction and location of their intended destination, and Will knew enough about a ship to sail the yacht.
It was morning when the boat reached Portland.
It had required all the attention of Will and the farmer’s son to manage the yacht, and they had not paid any attention to their prisoners.
The boat safely landed, however, a loud series of cries from the cabin caused Will to go below.
Captain Morris, red in the face and wild with rage, glared at him and endeavored vainly to break his bonds.
“Is this your work?” he raved.
“Yes, Captain Morris. The tables are turned now, and you are my prisoner.”
Parker, who was also awake, groaned audibly.
“Where are we?” he asked.
“At Portland, and you will soon be in jail.”
Captain Morris chafed in silence for some time. Finally, he said:
“See here, boy.”
“Well, Captain Morris?”
“Who’s on deck with you?”
“A man who won’t let you get loose. So don’t try any tricks.”
“Do you want to be rich?”
“Not with your money.”
“Listen. Release us and I’ll give you a thousand dollars.”
Will laughed.
“You haven’t got it to give me.”
“I have ten times that amount in my pocketbook.”
“It ain’t yours.”
“Whose, then?”
“It was stolen from the owners of the Albatross.”
Morris scowled deeply at Will’s words.
“They’ll have to prove it’s theirs,” he cried, “and I’ll risk their getting it. I have one satisfaction. Your family will be turned out of their home before another week.”
Will was silent and abruptly left the cabin.
He had confidence enough in his own ability and that of his brother Alan to make some arrangements for adjusting the matter of the mortgage.
Going up on the deck he instructed his assistant to keep a close watch over the prisoners.
“Are you going away?” asked the latter.
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“For the police.”
“You are going to have these men arrested?”
“Yes. I shall return shortly.”
Will went to the police station and asked for the officer in charge.
A few words of inquiry revealed the fact that Captain Bertram and Jack Marcy were expected at the station that morning.
“Do you know where they are stopping?” inquired Will.
The officer named a hotel nearby.
Will hastened there at once. Just as he was crossing the vestibule he saw two familiar forms.
“Alan—Jack!” he cried, as he rushed to where they were.
“Will!” cried Alan, in delighted tones. “You are free? You have escaped?”
“Yes, last night.”
“And Captain Morris?”
“He and his crew are prisoners on board the yacht.”
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